Page 5 of Captured Immune

“Marcus! Kev!” Emmy, our pianist, rushes out of the women’s bathroom with Liz right behind her.

Liz flashes Marcus and Kevin a stern look, then pretends to zip her lips shut. The room goes silent.

The girls know. I don’t know how they know, but they know. I can tell by their distraught emotions whipping me in the face like a chilly gust of wind. Plus, they’re staring at me with a sorrowful look in their eyes.

I hate that look. It’s the pity look. It’s the same look people used to give me when I was known as the little boy whose parents died in a “house fire.”I shouldn’t have come.

Liz whispers something to Emmy, who nods, turns to the boys, and gestures toward the door. Without a word, the guys obey, and they rush outside with Emmy.

When the door clicks shut, Liz approaches me with gentle steps. The closer she gets, the deeper her sadness bleeds into my head. It mixes with the pain that’s been throbbing inside me since yesterday.I really shouldn’t have come.

“T,” she says, all tender and shit.

I hate it. I hate this. I don’t want to be treated like I’m wounded. I mean, I am, but I don’t want to be treated like it.

“How do you know?” I ask dryly.

“Well, you weren’t answering your phone, so I called Ari. She said you broke up with her.”

Is that the story she’s telling people?Hearing the wordsbroke updoesn’t help me accept it. I won’t accept it. I’m still holding out for the moment someone pops out and tells me this was all just a cruel joke.The cruelest fucking joke ever.

I drag a rough hand through my already messy hair. “What else did she say?”

“Not much.”

I swallow the hard lump in my throat. “How is she?”

Liz studies me with furrowed brows. “Uh, I’m not sure.”

Is she as miserable as I am?

“How areyou?”

I shrug halfheartedly. “Fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look heartbroken.”

Is that what I’m feeling?Heartbroken?I guess I wouldn’t know. It’s never happened to me before. No wonder people say it sucks.

Liz keeps talking to me like I’m a lost puppy. “I thought you were in love with her?”

“I am.”

“Then I’m confused as to why you dumped her, but let’s talk about this later, okay? We’ve gotta get ready for our show.”

The idea of performing sounds as bad as explaining to Liz what happened. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I didn’t ask if you wanted to. We’re gonna talk tonight whether you like it or not.”

“Liz...” I sigh through her name.

She lifts a gloved hand to my face. “No. Don’t argue with me. You won’t win.”

She’s right. With her, I never win.

I guess if there’s one person in this world I can talk to about Arella, it’s Liz. Liz befriended me even when I was a drunk z-drug addict headed nowhere in life. Liz, of all people, will understand.

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